January 12, Kingston, Massachusetts
I've said it a hundred times since I started this blog that it's not for entertainment. It's a tool and nothing more. I'm not a friggin blogger and don't want to be. These are confessions because this is all I've got to work with. I'm just a stubborn fool trying to not go insane or blow my brains out, but that last entry was still way too cringe worthy so I had to write something, tonight, just to bump it out of relativity. Deleting it would be the chicken sh*t way of handling it. I guess in a way it's good to "hear" myself sound like such a wuss because it allows me to put my situation into perspective. Yes, I try to use writing here as a sounding board like a surrogate Jiminy Cricket to bounce things off of, but the other reason, if there is one, that I allow myself to broadcast my personal life into a public realm is because I still believe this plight is a result of one person trying to do the right thing in this messed up world and I think other good people can relate to this. I'll admit that a temporary solution a long time ago seems to have become permanent, but the only difference between insanity and perseverance is the motivation behind them. Doing the same thing over and over expecting different results may actually pay off if the motives are true and I believe they are even if I sound like the world's biggest pussy once in a while. So what? Big deal. I can't be afraid of this. How else am I going to learn? I know I'm not. It's just a mental mind f... sometimes. I wish I could just go back to work on a farm somewhere and get some darn exercise instead of waiting here in limbo for people who don't know anything about me to figure out their plans which don't includ me as what little money I have continues to diminish. Wah. Alright, I'll dial it down.
I worked on my truck a little, but I need to grind off some bolts to remove the spare tire assembly and my grinder is in Marshfield with the rest of my tools so I worked on the plow instead to make sure it's ready for snow if we ever get any instead of all this rain. I started a new chapter on imagination , too, and got an idea that would require making t-shirts to promote a new challenge for young people to create a better future for themselves and future generations. I know it sounds pretty pipe-dreamish, but when has that ever stopped me.
January 9, Scituate, Massachusetts
Parked at the driftway as the sun is going down over a high tide with the water as still as a lake, I remember two summers ago hopping around on the bow of my sailboat shirtless, barefoot and tan after spending a couple of 90 degree days staying cool on the water. Can't believe it's been two years. It's a lot of work putting a 26' sailboat in and out by yourself, but I was willing to do it rather than give up on trying to enjoy life so if I can get there once I can get there, again. The image is burned in my memory, no pun intended. It was my birthday and I spent it completely alone even though I grew up here. If this didn't tell me something, the message is loud and clear, now. How the beauty of this sight makes me feel, the one through the windshield of my truck and the one in my mind, gives me hope. So much for not reminiscing .
January 11, Kingston, Massachusetts
"They're 75" she said as she walked away from the computer next to the cash registered towards a door that led out back to the junk yard.
"For just the rim?" I replied.
"Oh, no worries then," as I turned and walked towards the front door to leave. "How much do you wanna pay?" said the owner who was standing in the lobby among the clutter of car parts eating his lunch on a stack of tires that came up to his belly.
"How bout 50?"
"Nah, I can get that next door, but thank you. I came here first to see if you could do better, but I appreciate it. Good to see you guys," which made it sound like we knew each other and we don't, but I was just trying to sound friendly seeing as I was leaving and taking my business elsewhere.
"Alright well, let me know if you change your mind."
I called my favorite junkyard, early this afternoon, before I headed to scrap-yard-strip in Brockton to make sure they had a rim for my truck and the guy told me $50 which was a little higher than I expected hence checking the yard next door, first. I'm probably just used to Maine prices. Everything is more expensive down here in Mass even used car parts. 50 isn't bad. It's a 3/4 ton truck. They're over 100 new and I just needed a rim for a spare. I discovered after I crawled under it a couple weeks ago (they're mounted under the bed) that it didn't have a spare tire when I bought it. It would have been nice if the guy that I bought it off of had mentioned that. Serves me right for assuming. In his defense, it wasn't his truck. He was selling it for his father-in-law. Anyways, that was today's project, to find a tire, rim and mount a spare underneath. The tire was only $35 and they mounted it for free. I taught myself how to mount a tire on a rim by hand a couple years ago, but it's a lot quicker and easier with a commercial tire machine.
Before I left the junkyard, my favorite one, I remembered that I didn't have one of those long rods that you slide through the hole in the bumper to lower the spare tire from under the bed. They're usually stored on the floor of the truck along with the jack behind the passenger seat, but I noticed it didn't have one of those either when I was cleaning out the truck so I went for a walk through the junkyard and rummaged around in the Ford truck section way out back. This is why I like Everett's . They're very organized for a company in the type of business they're in. The whole place is a giant grid categorized by make. They even have wheelbarrows lined up by the gate at the entrance for customers to use if they're pulling off a big part to carry back and so they can wheel their tools out with them to use. It took me a few trucks but I eventually found one of those foldable rods and the guy at the pay counter didn't even charge me for it.
Of course, I discovered that I need some silly security adapter that fits onto the end of the rod to lower the spare tire cable so I headed back into the junkyard to rummage around some more, but couldn't find one. Not the end of the world. I was planning on just mounting the spare with a chain and a padlock, but I figured I'd try to use the stock set-up, first, if it worked. I watched a youtube video on how to remove the bracket mechanism and pop off the security feature so that'll be my project for tomorrow. I poked around in the Toyota section for mr.Finance while I was there. The heated seat in his Tundra stopped working, but they didn't have any newer ones with fancy leather seats.
I got a lot of writing done as the year was coming to an end. Finished a couple new chapters in my book and went back, read and corrected as many typos as I could find in every one of the earlier chapters. There were a lot. So why was I going on so much about awareness in the last post of 2022? Awareness is why I live the way I do. It's why I get so bored with the superficial small-talk that most people, even my friends, seem only willing to talk about. I see mountains upon mountains of subjects and topics that everyone knowingly or unknowingly just look right past every day which forces me to carry it all by myself in my mind and it's exhausting. No, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm sure most people would probably say "Well, that's your choice. No one is making you carry it all," and this is why I tried to elaborate on the significance of awareness. We're, all, aware, of different things and we use other things whether intentional or unintentional to distract us from many of these topics that I can't seem to ignore. Maybe it's just pure arrogance that I think I can actually do something about these issues that bother me. Maybe so, but I know I can't live while pretending that they don't exist so that's why I carry them. It's not a choice. It would be like telling someone not to smell the dead skunk that they just hit with their car. That would be impossible. What would it take for the person to somehow block out such a strong smell. I can't imagine what they'd have to do and maybe most people can't imagine why I've lived the way I have, but no one has to agree with it. I've never expected anyone to. What makes it so difficult isn't the physical conditions. It's all the pretending. I don't have one single friend or family member who's ever even asked me why I live how I do. This is what kills me. Everyone just goes on ignoring the elephant in the room. Elephants are heavy. How can I develop an honest relationship with anyone when I'm fully aware of all the things they're not telling me or not willing to talk about?
I have a hat. It's one I wear on a regular basis. I made it. Well, had it made. I designed the logo and image and ordered it online. I've been wearing it for over a year and it has the photograph and name of this blog just like it appears on this page right across the front of it. Do you know how many people have ever said a word about it? Including my friends? Zero. I never talk about this blog and I very, very rarely mention my book, but I know for a fact that if any of my friends had written or were trying to write a book I would for damn sure ask them about it. Why doesn't anyone? They're more than happy to talk about all the safe superficial bullsh*t that everyone talks about. I'm not mad and I'm not looking for a gold star or special attention. I just want someone to have the balls to be real. I'm just shedding light on a subject that is always present despite anyone's willingness to acknowledge it.
I suppose there is the possibility that they're actually not aware that they're avoiding all the issues that seem so obvious to me, but a lot of my friends and family members are pretty intelligent people. It would be hard to believe that they aren't aware of them with how successful many of them are. A lot of people I see walking around everyday acting like they've got a good handle on life fall into this category, too. My point is pick one or the other because you can't have both. Either you're not smart enough to be aware of the matters that concern me and you should check your ego at the door or you are intelligent enough and you're choosing to ignore them. Which one is it? Because I'm done giving everyone a hall pass. Within a week or so, I'm going to lose any physical connection to this place and maybe that'll actually be a good thing as painful as these past few months have been. Maybe I'll finally be free. Maybe the solo life I've lived will finally make sense.
This is not a work of fiction. Although, names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are not the product of the author's imagination nor used in a fictitious manner, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.